


Father's Son

by camrenoliver



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Harry Potter, Black Harry Potter, Curly-Haired Draco Malfoy, Drarry, Gay Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Healer Draco Malfoy, Journalist Harry Potter, M/M, Meet-Cute, Minor Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Muggle Culture, Not Epilogue Compliant, Professor Harry Potter, Remus Lupin Lives, Sirius Black Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:21:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21772120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camrenoliver/pseuds/camrenoliver
Summary: Draco and Harry run into each other at a muggle bar. Then they keep running into each other everywhere.harry is a journalist, draco is a healer at St. Mungo's. some minor wolfstar b/c i miss them and they may be used to further the plot... )
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 28





	1. Meet Cute

**Author's Note:**

> pls enjoy;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i also have a drarry playlist on yt,,,, https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLSZpGDeB7gSHx3Q8C_MWBhhhNpUcOpYdf lmk if y'all like it

Harry missed it. The ignorance that comes with childhood. He barely had one of those thanks to the Dursleys. But every time he reentered a magic place, he felt like a child for the first time in his life. He remembers meeting Hagrid for the first time and feeling like it was all a dream. Not truly believing it all until Mrs. Weasley helped him get to the platform in his first year. Harry tells people that it was his first class at Hogwarts that made him believe. But it was the kindness of a stranger that made him believe.  
Every day he curses at Dumbledore for keeping it all from him. For forcing abuse on him by people who wanted nothing to do with him. For making it his destiny to become a murderer. For taking away what little of a childhood he had left.  
Shit.  
Harry should stop drinking so much. To clarify, Harry's not an alcoholic, it's just the only thing that quiets the thoughts in his head. Sometimes. He had stopped going to the Leaky Cauldron since people wouldn't stop coming up to him. Everyone acted as if they knew him, all because he killed Voldemort. Sure he was a terrorist and the man who killed thousands of innocent people, including his family, but murder is murder. Dumbledore forced Harry to become a murderer, he felt like him and Tom were more equals now than ever. It's not like Harry could talk to anyone about it. The only other murderers were in Azkaban. He tried to talk about it with Ron and Hermione but they always end up saying that it had to be that way. That there wasn't another option. Harry had no choice. This was all rubbish to him. That's why he goes alone to a muggle bar. And that's what made it even more surprising when he saw the man on the stool he always sits at. 

He hadn't seen Draco Malfoy for a few months after the war. He spotted Malfoy at the Leaky Cauldron getting drunk in the corner. They never spoke, just gave one another a look, and that was it. Well, the curly hair that was atop Malfoy's head was just as surprising. Someone opened the door to the bar and ran into Harry, as he had been frozen to the spot the second he saw Malfoy when entering. What was blood-purist Malfoy doing in a muggle bar? Surrounded by non-magic folk? He quickly apologized and moved forward. All this made Malfoy look at the commotion Harry had caused. The drink about to go into his mouth stopped along with his breath. 

Draco thought that going to a muggle bar would keep him safe from wizards. They all saw his father when they looked at him. He couldn't blame them though. He never had his own original thought until his sixth year. Almost all the words he spoke at school were his father's words. He didn't know any better, that's what he tells himself at least. He doesn't believe it because he should have known better. Even Harry "Perfect" Potter knew better and he was raised by muggles. Stupid Potter. Stupid perfect Potter. 

Harry didn't know where to go or where to look. His hair? His outfit? His face? His mouth? So he walked up to Malfoy like a bloody idiot and said: "That's my spot." Malfoy looked astonished and ready to kick him in the shins.  
"You're joking, right?" retorted Malfoy. "This isn't your bloody spot Potter! It's a pub, you complete idiot." Malfoy stood up and rushed to the bathroom before Harry could say anything to him. The bartender chuckled and said,  
"He's right, Potter."  
"We went to school together," Harry said. He'd hoped that would be enough explanation for why he said what he said.  
"Old friend then?" She asked.  
"The opposite. I think" Honestly he wasn't quite sure anymore, they definitely weren't friends, but they were way past the childish enemy stage.  
"Alright then, be cryptic. Same as usual Mr. Potter?" Harry sat down next to where Malfoy had been sitting. It almost feels wrong to sit where he had been mere seconds ago.  
"I don't think I'll be long tonight." He answered. The oddest thing about this, apart from all of it, was that Malfoy had been wearing muggle clothing. It'd been a strange feeling seeing him in black skinny jeans and a t-shirt. The thing is, it wasn't a bad feeling. Harry thought he looked nice. 

Draco splashed water all over his face, hoping it'd cool him down. Instead, he got water all over his shirt and messed up his hair. He'd been trying not to use any straightening charms or products on it, as he had no one to impress anymore. Nor was his father there to pester him about how unruly and unprofessional his hair is. He had ended up in Azkaban, all the death eaters had. Draco was one of the many who had voted for it when they were on trial. He only felt bad when he looked at his mother's jewelry; she still wore their wedding ring. Whether it was out of obligation or something else entirely he wasn't sure. It was obvious she never loved him. He felt guilty for something he had no control over (story of his life). But whenever he looked in the mirror, he saw his father. This made him nauseous. That's why he let his curls come out. And that's why he had been dressing the way he was. He wanted to see himself in his reflection. Not his father. Now, he saw more of his mother, he was alright with this. 

He couldn't believe Potter had the nerve to say what he did. My seat my arse. It didn't help that Potter looked the way he did. Potter looked like had forgotten to shave that morning and the day before. He was wearing the same stupid grey shirt he always wore and a Gryffindor red flannel. Bloody Potter, he always looked like pure fire. Whatever that means. He knew what it meant but still, after eight-plus years, couldn't admit it.  
He did his best to dry himself off and left the bathroom. When Draco came out (of the bathroom) Potter had found himself a place to sit next to "his spot". Draco stared at him before he walked up to where he'd been sitting and downed what was left of his drink. "I hope you didn't poison my drink Potter, not that you're bright enough to know what to use," Draco said loudly.  
"Malfoy-"  
"Shut it, Potter, I'm leaving." he interrupted. Draco didn't feel like explaining himself, nor did he feel like talking tonight. Maybe another. Maybe he should stop drinking so much.  
"Malfoy wait!" Potter shouted as Draco was walking away. What the hell were they doing? Draco stopped in his tracks and decided to hear was Potter had to say.  
"What is it, Potter?"  
"I'm sorry, for earlier. I dunno why I said that." Potter looked at his shoes with a strange look. "Just a little surprised to see you here is all."  
"Could say the same to you." Draco retorted. For some reason, he believed Potter. "Never thought you'd want to leave all the love and fame of everyone from," Draco looked around, making sure no one was listening, "you know where."  
"That's actually why I left," Potter said. "Everyone thinks I'm some hero. I'm just a kid." he got quiet.  
"Finally, something we can agree on." Potter chuckled at this. Draco thought about staying to continue the conversation with Potter but instead, he grabbed his jacket off the stool and began to leave. "Try not to die from alcohol poisoning Potter. People will think it was me." and left. 

Harry was definitely telling Ron and Hermione. 

Draco was definitely telling his mother.


	2. Stop Following Me, Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry needs to interview healers,,,, i wonder who he could run into, hehehe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao so i didn't proofread this

Harry didn't tell them. He thought they might think Harry was going full 6th year again on them. They still make fun of him for that. "Well, you were stalking him like crazy, Harry." Ron would say. "Honestly we thought you were going slightly mad!" added Hermione. 

He went back to the bar, part of him hoping to run into Malfoy. But they ran into one another at work. Or rather, Malfoy's work. Harry had been wanting to do a piece on St. Mungo's and how they were doing after the war. The very last thing he'd expected was to see that head of platinum blond hair. I mean, it'd make sense if he pissed someone off so much they beat him up for it and Malfoy ended up here. But no. Malfoy works here, as a healer. He even had the robes and everything. Harry couldn't believe it. Not to mention how strange Malfoy looked in the robes. A good strange he thought to himself. Unclear on what that meant, another strange through passed through his mind. Malfoy had looked soft. It looked like he was comforting a small child who had grown a finger from the crook of their elbow. Harry thought Malfoy looked unrecognizable. Then he looked at Harry. There was that stone-cold look he used to get every day!

Malfoy began to walk towards him. "Potter!" He whispered loudly. "What on Earth are you doing here? Following me, are you?" he added. Harry froze, what was he here for again? Right, work.  
"I'm here to interview some of the healers here." Malfoy gave him a blank stare. "Because I work for the Daily Prophet..." Harry paused, still a bit taken aback by seeing him. "What are you doing here Malfoy?" Harry thought he sounded smart. How the hell did he save the wizarding world more than once?  
"How'd you save the world, twice. You're so oblivious." Malfoy answered. Harry didn't say anything, he just kept, looking. Draco had curly hair as well. He had it as well when they ran into each other the other night, but it was tamer. Should he mention it? Obviously, Malfoy knew what he looked like, so it seemed like a stupid question, and he'd already said enough of those today. "I work here, Potter." Malfoy appeared defensive. "So, you can ask me questions if you want to, I was just about to go on a break." Harry took a quick breath.  
"Uh, yeah, of course." Harry's brain felt like it was an egg and Malfoy was making an omelet. 

Draco couldn't believe this. Potter had tainted the bar, and now his work. "I started to work here three months after the war, so I- I didn't uh- didn't experience the immediate after-effects like everyone else." Draco looked anxious to talk about the war, Potter almost looked sorry for him. Draco had begun to remember the war, the incessant screams that bounced off the walls in the Manor. The blood, the quiet.  
"Um, Malfoy?" Harry had interrupted his train of thought. "Well, I was going to ask if it was hard, helping to rehabilitate people." Potter paused before Draco could respond. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to." Draco gave the other man a defensive look.  
"And why wouldn't I want to answer that, Potter?" snarked Draco.  
"Well," Potter looked out the window, a bit dramatically if you asked Draco, and then back at him, "it was a traumatic experience for everyone and not everyone would want to talk about it." They'd both gone quiet. "We all lost people, and I know you lost one of your friends as w-"  
"He wasn't a friend, Potter." quipped Draco. "I didn't have the luxury for those."  
"Oh." The man sitting opposite of him looked unsure of how to continue. "Friends or not, war is war," he added. Draco nodded glumly.  
"It's more peaceful at the manor," Draco spoke so quietly and softly, Potter barely recognized the other man's voice. This is what he was hoping for. "But," he says louder, "Everyone says it's much busier here than before. I wouldn't know the difference I suppose." Draco had forgotten the question. It seems that Potter must have as well. "Although we do have lots of people with sleep disorders: nightmares, insomnia, paralysis. And a surprising amount of burns." Draco was trying to do his best for Potter. No, for the reputation of his workplace.  
"Yeah," Harry adds, "Ron's got a nasty burn on his arm and chest. Didn't even notice it at first."  
"Shock, that's not uncommon with magical burns and cuts." To outsiders, they looked so civil, they could have been friends. Does it still hurt?" Draco asked cooly, not wanting to seem friendly, but curious.  
"Sometimes. I think he tries not to make a big fuss about it, but I've noticed how much pain he can be in." Draco appeared reluctant.  
"How are you doing after the war?" He shouldn't have asked, it wasn't any of his business and he was the one writing for the Daily Prophet.  
"You know Malfoy, I'm the one who's supposed to be asking questions." Potter, chuckled? And at Malfoy? That's kind of cute Draco thought. But only kind of cute. "But, if you are curious, we could always," Potter halted, but continued anyway, "I dunno, go for a drink or something?" Potter must've been cursed or something. To ask such a question!  
"You and me? Out for a drink?" Draco laughed. Only then did Potter truly seem to realize how preposterous suggestion was.  
"It's silly, I know," Potter's face flushed a bit, was it hot in here? "But, think about it, yeah?" Draco was blushing. Stupid Potter being to forward and informal and so fucking oblivious.  
"Well, I get off of work in about an hour," Draco said this without consulting himself beforehand. He seemed to be doing this a lot around Potter. Before he let Potter respond, Draco got up quickly and went to read a patient's chart that he knew by heart. 

Harry couldn't believe he'd asked Draco Malfoy out on a date. Was it a date? No. That would be preposterous. They were just going to catch up, like old friends. Being friendly? Harry spent the rest of his waiting doing what he meant to do when he got to St. Mungo's. He hoped it wouldn't take too long to write up the article. 

Draco found himself getting easily distracted and his eyes wandered off to look for that messy head of hair. Perfect Potter and his perfectly messy hair. Potter had been waiting for Draco for about five minutes. "You still up for drinks then, Malfoy?" asked Potter. Draco smoothed his shirt down to calm himself, why wasn't he calm? He felt unusually nervous.  
"Scared, Potter?"  
"You wish." A smile appeared on his face. It felt strange seeing it directed at himself. 

"So, what made you want to be a healer, Malfoy?" asked Harry.  
"Well-"  
"I'm sorry." interrupted Harry, " Can I call you Draco instead?" He looked at Malfoy with the softest and fiercest look. "I just feel like it's a bit, childish is all." He added.  
"Aren't you loaded with questions tonight?" sneered Malfoy. They both paused for a beat. "Maybe buy me a few more drinks before you can call me that," He looked at Harry, hoping that he could read between the lines. Harry could not.  
"Are you asking me out on a date?" Maybe he did know. Harry's brain short-circuited at the thought. A date with Malfoy, a boy, Draco bloody Malfoy.  
Amongst the billion other things the Dursley's loved to abuse him for, the way Harry looked at boys was one them. That was yet another reason why they kept him under the stairs. God forbid the malnourished and abused boy does something to their perfect son. It's not like Harry could do anything, he was Dudley's punching bag for years. This all made perfect sense to the Durselys. Even though his friends and family were accepting, it was still a struggle for Harry to unlearn the abuse he got from Privet Drive. Ron had figured it out in their fourth year, he had seen the way he looked at Cedric and Cho, the way he talked about them. They bonded even more over being bisexual. Harry is forever grateful they didn't continue fighting that year. He was trying to figure everything out, the goblet picking his name, everyone around him, Dumbledore, his stupid feelings, but the most difficult part of their fourth year wasn't even Tom Riddle. It was fighting with Ron. 

Draco's brain started to freeze, of course, he'd blame it on the alcohol he's drinking. Even though he'd only taken a sip or two. Potter had the audacity, not only to ask him out at his place of work, but he asked him out on another date while they were still on one! Were they on a date? Is that what he was asking him? Had Draco hoped that Potter was asking him out? Who does Potter think he is?! Wait. Of course. "Potter," Draco felt disappointed for some reason. "Are you under a love potion?" Just saying it made him feel slightly sick. He had thought, he let himself believe. But, belief in what exactly? How could he let this happen? Draco had told his mother that he was friendly with Potter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> instead of doing my thirty-ish missing assignments and studying for my written spanish final tomorrow that i am utterly unprepared for, i did this, so pls enjoy this


	3. Love Potion, Or Just Common Decency

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also didn't proofread this too much

Harry felt his face drop. "You think I'm in love with you? And that I'm under some sort of spell?" Why would Malfoy think that? Because he was trying to be nice? "Why-"  
"Listen, Potter, just be honest, please." It sounded like Malfoy had to push these words out with great force. His words came at him so fast Harry could barely comprehend. Please? Malfoy looked so vulnerable and scared. Was he in a parallel universe? One where he went out to pubs with Malfoy and talked about their lives.  
"I still don't know what you mean." Harry tried his best to sound as genuine as he felt.  
"Why are you being so nice to me?! I mean, I was a bully and I was awful to you and your friends!" Malfoy appeared exasperated. "I almost killed Dumbledore!" Harry sighed.  
"But you didn't." The pair went quiet. Harry was exhausted and Malfoy had a somewhat hopeless look on his face. How was he supposed to explain it all to Malfoy?  
When he had first met the man, he felt like all the pieces to his puzzle were coming together. Harry put all his faith in him, not even questioning him. Harry never had gotten straight answers from Dumbledore. Looking back, he didn't even know anything about him, and he knew everything about Harry. It makes sense he didn't tell Harry everything right away. But to ask so much of a child, and not tell him everything. He raised him to be a pig waiting to be slaughtered, it made him feel worse than the Dursleys sometimes. Only because he had trusted Dumbledore, he had faith in him. He remembered waking up for the first time in the hospital wind after defeating Professor Quirrell. The first time he questioned Dumbledore. And the first time he of many he was denied answers. To this day he still finds little things that Dumbledore did that makes him sick to his stomach. I mean, the whole falling in love with Grindelwald and only going to the good side after accidentally killing his sister should've been a sign. 

But the thing that hurts Harry the most, the thing that will stay will him the rest of his life, is his treatment towards his godfather. Since Dumbledore couldn't use or manipulate Sirius, he had no use for him, so he let the man rot in Azkaban. After the war was over, the very first thing he did was prove his innocence. He extracted Sirius' memories and used the truth potion on him in front of the Ministry. He's been free and living with Remus ever since. The two of them had gotten engaged just last month. Harry realized they were together during the winter holidays of his fifth year when they gave him a gift, together. Plus they always were together. Harry didn't believe in soul mates, but hell if they weren't the closest thing to it. This just forced Harry to do more soul searching and try to accept himself and his sexuality. He's still working on it.  
He hates all the anger he has, for himself, the Dursleys, for Dumbledore. But he's glad the old man isn't around to cause more havoc, as disrespectful as it sounds. Harry wished that Malfoy could get all of this with a melancholy look. Doubtful. The blond was smart, but he wasn't a mind reader. "It's just a bit more complicated than it looks."  
Harry had taken a good while to think of a response but nothing else sufficed. "Dumbledore was difficult, and he caused a lot more problems than I knew." He paused and took a sip of his drink. "And, people change." Malfoy scoffed at him.  
"You believe that?"  
"Well, I seriously doubt they'd hire you as a healer if you were still a prick." Harry's words were sharp but his tone was soft, much like himself. There was a surprised look on Malfoy's face.  
"Thank you, I suppose." If Harry didn't know better, he'd think Malfoy was staring at him. 

Fuck. Whose idea was it to go out for drinks with their crush? This either meant that Draco was an idiot or that he was moronsexual. He hopes it's the latter. Reputation or whatever. Anyway, Draco was definitely not staring at Potter and he was even more definitely not just complimented by "Perfect Potter". Whether it was backhanded or not, it was a compliment nonetheless. People tend not to give those out to ex-death eaters. Oh yeah, that too.  
"Even death eaters? You think they can change as well?" Draco didn't want to know the answer to that.  
"Did you want to be a death eater?" Potter's question felt genuine. No secret motives. He could use more of that. Draco went quiet.  
"No." 

He looked back down at Potter. He studied his face. The dark skin with even darker freckles splashed perfectly over his face. He could see them falling down his neck too. Draco let himself imagine the freckles that lived on Potter's chest. His toned chest. From all that quidditch. The hair on his head, and the unruliness of it all. The way it pointed in every single direction completely untamed. Yet it looked perfect. Perfectly messy. It was hard to believe that a close relative of his was the person who invented that hair gel he used to use. Before he could settle his focus on Potter's eyes, the man started talking again.  
"Then why should I believe that you're not able to change? That you're not worth believing in?" It felt like a blow to the stomach.  
"Because everyone else doesn't think I can change. They always see my father when they look at me." Potter let out a soft chuckle. Fuck him for being so soft.  
"Is that why..." Potter pointed at Draco's head, "you changed your hair?" Draco is definitely going into hiding with his mother after this. This was all too much.  
"Amongst other reasons." He hoped that Potter couldn't see his blush that began cascading down to his neck. He felt so embarrassed. He started to feel more vulnerable each second that passed. Potter was going to make fun of him. He hadn't expected him to make fun of the one thing that Draco knew was his own and not a replica of his father.  
"I like it." What. "I think it suits you, Malfoy." Hnnnnng.  
"You, like it?" Draco was lost and felt a tad bit lightheaded. He doesn't think he could blame it on the little amount of alcohol he had.  
"It feels more real, authentic. And I know what it’s like for people to see my dad when look at me." Before Draco could respond, Potter added, "Some might even say that you're stealing my look." Potter dared to smirk into his drink.  
"Wha-!" Draco laughed. "That is just completely preposterous! At least mine is well kept, unlike the rat's nest you call your hair!" The old schoolmates kept on with the witty, playful banter for about a half an hour more before Draco had gotten a call from work on his cellphone. Potter held a surprised look on his pretty face. 

Why did Malfoy have a phone? He thought that wizards didn't use muggle technology. When Malfoy got out his cell Harry had asked impatiently, "What does a non-muggle need a phone for?" He made sure no muggles were listening to their conversation. Malfoy shook his head.  
"Work, it's easier like this. And, I'm more fond of it than I thought I'd be." Harry noticed that Malfoy hadn't sat back down when he was finished with the call. Malfoy noticed this as well. "I have a patient that needs me."  
"Oh." Harry was disappointed. He'd been having a rather enjoyable night with Malfoy. "I um- this was- I had a good time." He was unsure of what to say, not wanting to scare him away. Malfoy seemed to notice this too.  
"Are you busy this Friday?" Malfoy asked quickly. Yes, in fact, Harry was extremely busy that day.  
"No, not at all. I'm completely free." He could have sworn that Malfoy smiled.  
"Let's do this again on Friday, same time?" Harry didn't skip a beat, but his heart did.  
"Yes." Butterflies infected his stomach. Flying in tune to his heartbeat. "I'll see you then Malfoy."  
"Draco, call me Draco." Yeah, he definitely had a crush on him.  
"See you then Draco." The name felt foreign, but it sounded right coming out of his mouth.

Hearing his name coming out of Potter's mouth sounded, good. It felt safe with him.

Before Malfoy, no, Draco left he looked back at him once more, giving Harry a small smile. He felt like he was electrocuted, he was so excited for Friday. He didn't even feel that guilty about how he had to cancel all his plans. Harry did however still felt conflicted about his feelings. He tried to pretend that it was a phase for the past two years or so. The war brought back all his trauma. So he called the only people he could.  
He wasn't sure who picked up the phone first, as all he could hear was both men shouting, "HARRY! DARLING!" Remus and Sirius must have had a few drinks as well.  
"Hey, you two." Harry had left the pub and started to walk back to his flat. He'll finish his article tomorrow. "I have a question for both of you." Harry almost hung up. He wasn't afraid of being judged or anything of the sort, but he was afraid of the truth. Afraid that he'd be even more of an outsider. "How," he paused for a few seconds before blurting out the rest, "how did you two know you weren't straight?"


	4. Chapter Four (brain empty, no thoughts)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They talk to their parents about feelings *insert barf emoji here*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no i did not proofread this,, enjoy

After about two hours of sedating and trying his best to help his patient, who had the Dragon Pox, even though his 'co-workers' thought it was eradicated long ago). "My grandfather died from it, so yeah it's not extinct," he muttered the second half. Seeing as no one else was going to help, as they were too scared that they would get it too, they forced the previous Death Eater to do the grunt work. Draco gave his patient the purple cure that was hidden away in a glass bottle that had been collecting dust. Slowly but surely the patient stopped sneezing out sparks and the bumps on his skin began to disappear. The green of his skin started to fade to a nice, dark brown. Draco was reminded of Potter. He pictured the contrast of the colors of their skin. Draco with his nearly sickly shade of white and Harry with his skin that looked like what the warmth of the sun felt like. Draco longed to reach out and touch the Gryffindor's skin. His skin looked so soft but Draco knew it'd be rough. Rough from all the years of fighting and surviving. Draco laughed at himself, the man lying next to him almost died and all the doctor could think of was 'Saint Potter'. He thought of Potter's laugh and how he did so with his whole body. His body would jump up and down while he banged his fists on the table or his thighs. Oh, his thighs. Harry had the thickest thighs and Draco could barely stand it. He knew it was because Potter was the star quidditch player and had his thighs held tight around his broomstick for years. The man next to him coughed, which shook Draco out of his trance.  
"So, you should be able to leave sometime tomorrow afternoon, if you need anything, please don't hesitate to let us know." his patient tried to say thank you but had already begun to fall asleep. 

Draco apparated to the manor as quickly as he could. He couldn't stand the looks he was getting from the other healers that worked the night shifts. He found himself in front of the fireplace. "Oh, my goodness Draco darling you frightened me!" His mother was had been wearing he silk pajamas that were so elegant you could hardly call them as such. She was lying on the large grey couch which occupied a spot on the floor several feet next to the fireplace.  
"Sorry mother, I didn't know you'd still be up," He turned around with a soft sigh and sat down next to her. "I've a long day."  
"Good?" Of course, she had begun to notice Draco staying out later and grew concerned. It didn't take much budging for Draco to tell her about his 'meetings' with Harry. Draco didn't want to cause his mother to worry any more than she already did. She gave him a smirk and then her face fell. Don't hurt yourself Draco darling. She had said. Mother knew of his interest in the boy since before he had even met him. But everything changed when he met him. Draco had been too harsh and didn't realize until it was far too late for him to do something about it. The thing about Harry Potter is that the boy who, when Draco was a very little boy, made his father stay home and give him and his mother a kiss before bed instead of working with the Dark Lord wasn't who he thought he'd be. He wasn't supposed to have such curly hair, nor glasses, nor the huge lightning-shaped scar that rests on the middle of his forehead. The boy was most definitely not supposed to be a Gryffindor who was friends with muggle lovers. If things were different, if Draco had been raised to be a good person, none of these things would have bothered him. But he was and he did.  
Nowadays, those things are amongst the endless reason why he-  
He wasn't supposed to, but, Merlin, he did. Draco had only ever said how he truly felt once. It was a few days after Potter had defeated He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named for the final time. Draco and his mother had been hiding out after everything that happened. They only left due to a letter from the Ministry. They thought it best to go to the trial, fearing that if they continued to flee, the consequences would be even worse. So they showed up, both expected to be tortured and sent to Azkaban. But instead, because of Harry bloody Potter had saved their asses. Draco thinks to himself that he could never repay him. 

"Not bad." Draco had a slight smirk on his face. He motioned to mother's book. She turned it around.  
"Catcher In The Rye," The same smirk that rested on Draco's face was now on Narciss's face. "This is by far the most boring book I have ever read." They shared a soft laugh and she moved up off the sofa. "I'll be off to bed then, and maybe you can tell me more about your dates with Harry." Thank Merlin it was dark, Draco hadn't wanted his mother to see the growing blush on his face.  
"They're not dates mother!" She was almost out of the room when she muttered something under her breath, but too far away for Draco to hear her.  
"Goodnight darling. I love you."  
"Goodnight mother, love you too." Draco went to his room and quickly changed into pajamas, which were almost as elegant as his mother's. He sat down on his bed, which felt much too large for just Draco. He slept that night with thoughts of the green-eyed boy. As fresh as a pickled toad, hair as dark as a blackboard. is last thought that night was him wondering what Potter would think if he told him that Draco had written that poem. No, he didn't feel that way and especially not towards Harry Potter.  


"How," he paused for a few seconds before blurting out the rest, "how did you two know you weren't straight?"

Sirius let out a laugh. Remus answered first. "It was your father actually,"  
"You had a crush on my father?" Harry felt a bit lost, unsure of how to compartmentalize such new information. It was Remus' turn to laugh.  
"No, dear boy, he was talking about your mother." Harry's heart lurched. Feeling cheated out of knowing his parents. "I realized I felt the same way about boys, along with girls." It sounded like he was going to continue but Sirius wanted to give his two cents.  
"Well for me, Harry-" He could just feel the adoring look Remus must have been giving his fiance. Gross. "I think I always knew, but fuck, coming back home to our third year at Hogwarts and seeing him for the first time since last year. Yeah, that's when I knew." Now Harry could feel the adoring look Sirius was giving Remus. They were so, soft. So gentle with one another. So soft it hurt Harry's heart. Because he knew all the pain and heartbreak they suffered. Harry thought that they were only so careful with each other because they were afraid of making a mistake. He could understand that.  
Sirius went on about how attractive his fiance was and Remus stopped him.  
"Whose got you questioning again, Harry?" During his last few years at Hogwarts, some words about being confused about his sexuality had found its way to his godfathers. But Harry was far too busy fighting evil to pay much attention to relationships. But apparently, that didn't stop him from making out with each seeker at Hogwarts except the Slytherin one. He made out with Cedric in his fourth year, it was impulsive and they both acted like it never happened. Then Cho happened. He still felt bad about what happened with her, he feels even more embarrassed.  
"Just an old schoolmate I keep running into." Harry had calmed down on his walk back to his flat. He felt too lightheaded to apparate back. Not to mention, walking always made him make more sense of his feelings. "It's confusing," He wasn't sure if he should tell them. At least, about the Malfoy aspect.  
It was obvious that Malfoy had hanged. It was so drastic that Harry had begun to wonder if this was Malfoy's twin, the "good" one. Maybe, it was him under a spell. Except, this had felt the most genuine expression of himself that he showed to Harry. Or rather, let Harry see. The men on the other end of the call went silent.  
"Well," Remus started. "If you want, you can tell us about him." Harry contemplated if he should talk to them about Malfoy, if he did, would things change? What if Harry royally screwed this up—whatever this was— and then everyone would look at him like a dog in the rain. The way everyone looked at him. The way they said you look just like your father, with your mother's eyes of course. Harry wasn't sure if he'd be able to handle it. Telling if fathers about Malfoy, messing it up, then them asking Harry about the blond.  
"He's different." That's a start. Harry supposed he didn't have to tell the men everything just yet. "He's more himself than I remember, and just more of everything." It was true, Malfoy seemed happier, not happy but, just more. Free.  
Once Harry started talking about Malfoy, it was hard to stop. "I think he used to hide because he was afraid or didn't know who he was," Harry remembered back to their sixth year in the bathroom. Afraid of the world around him. The gaunt and exhausted boy staring at his reflection in the mirror, scared of who was looking back at him. Harry was scared too. And dumb. But that doesn't dismiss what Harry had done to Malfoy. He thinks about that night almost as much as the war. He regrets all of those choices. Thinking it was okay to hurt someone solely based on fear. He thinks of the blood he caused to pour out of that small pale body, an innocent body. Out of Malfoy's body. Harry thought it would make his guilt lessen, but in fact, it just made him feel worse. He fell asleep after a few hours of tossing and turning. Only to be welcomed with images of Malfoys body, covered in blood. Harry couldn't escape all the hurt he caused Malfoy and all the pain Malfoy brought to him. Neither of them guilt-free. 

"Well," Sirius had interrupted his somber thoughts, he sounded exasperated. "It seems like you're infatuated." Harry wished his godfather was wrong, however, it was true. "Not to mention, Harry, it's late and I know for a fact that you have an article to write." Sirius might have played the fool but that didn't make him miss any details. They wished one another a good night and Harry reached his place as he put his phone in his back pocket. His mind so full of thoughts, he finished his article and went to bed with a blond man in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just typed out a whole thing then deleted it smh,,,, anyway check out my bookmarks bc i just watched the new It movies and it's nothing but reddie fics (also i watched the witcher twice and Jaskier is the loml and Geralt is my daddy)
> 
> also, i have finals and a bunch of homework to turn in along with my proposal for a senior project even though they gave everyone else a year to prepare for and they gave me one night to do so ahahahahah


	5. Some Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm back lmao sorry for the long wait!! Draco and Harry hang out again and talk :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this is short but more is coming!!!  
> also! visit this link to see how u can help-> www.ally.wiki/

It’d been a strangely quiet week for Harry, he finished his article, it wasn’t too great or too bad, it was alright. His friends were busy so he had little to do. He felt bad for rescheduling on everyone and felt worse for lying about why. He wasn’t ready to tell Ron and Hermione that he was fucking up his schedule up royally all for Draco Malfoy. So that Friday night, at the same bar as last week, Harry had gotten there ten minutes early, only for Draco to show up two minutes later. 

“So Potter, why are you a reporter?” Draco looked at him with a smirk and curiosity. “Didn’t think you’d become something you despised.”  
“I could say the same thing for you” jabbed Harry. “I saw you volunteering at a muggle hospital.” Harry had hoped that this was sufficient enough of an answer.   
Draco paused. He wondered what could possibly happen if he explained himself. No one likes him anyway. And no one listens to Potter, or do they? “The muggles are the only people not repulsed by me.” Draco looked away from Harry and out the window. “Even after the trial, when you vouched for me.” Draco almost looked like he was going to cry. “I never thanked you for that.”  
“You did though.” Harry thinks back to the trial. When it was all over, Draco went to shake Harry’s hand, a stone-cold look on his face, but tears had filled his eyes.   
“Shaking your hand is hardly a thank you, Potter. Honestly, were you raised by wolves?” Harry chuckled.   
“Close enough.”  
“Well,” Draco continued. “No matter what you had said, or what I’ve been doing, wizards still see me as a Death Eater.” Draco’s face turned sour. “They still see my father.” Draco still was refusing to look Harry in the eyes, so he settled on his own hands. Occasionally straying to look at Harry’s hands.   
“Just getting the job at St. Mungo’s was probably one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do!” Harry’s mouth turned upwards at the obvious lie. But Harry thought that he was beginning to understand where Draco was getting at.   
“People seem to never forgive or forget,” Harry said glumly. Draco nodded.   
“They only hired me out of pity. And because my mother may have sent quite the wordy letter, thank Merlin it wasn’t a howler.” Draco looked at Harry, expecting him to change the topic, but he didn’t, so he kept talking. In a much quieter, hushed voice, Draco said, “It’s funny, the people I had so much hate for, and all because my father told me to,” Harry understood that Draco was talking about Muggles, “are the only people who treat me like I’m my own person.” Draco let a tear fall out of his eye. “They don’t know all the things I’ve done.”   
Attempting to bring Draco’s spirits up, Harry said, “What, be mean to a kid who was mean to you, like seven years ago?” As soon as he said it, Harry wished he would think before he spoke. He felt oblivious.  
“More like signing up for a fan club for one of the most notorious murderers known to man.” Draco didn’t appear to be sad anymore, now he looked angry. “How did you even get to this!” He exclaimed. “I asked you a question, Potter.”  
“Sorry, yes.” Harry was wrong. It was not enough of an answer for the blond. “My whole life, it was cursed from the start. Everyone believed the lies on the paper. Everything about me, my family, my friends.” The anger Harry had felt from Rita Skeeter resurfaced. “I just want to right their wrongs and spread some truth for a bit.”  
Draco glanced at him with a puzzled look, “Only for a bit?” he asked, genuinely curious. What else would Potter be doing? He always had the idea that he’d be a professional seeker seeing as he loved it so much. He remembers how devastated Harry had been when Umbridge had banned Harry from quidditch in their fifth year.   
“Yeah, I want to do something else after a few more stories.” Harry smirked. “They let me write just about anything I want because I’m the ‘chosen one’ and all of that shit. They almost let me publish a story on muggle sex toys.” Harry laughed while Draco choked on air.   
“They- muggle sex toys?!” Draco looked exasperated, “and almost? What stopped them?” Harry smiled even bigger. There was a flicker in it, maybe he didn’t like talking about this kind of stuff.   
“Well, they didn’t quite like the part where the chosen one ranks them, because he used them.” Draco just stared at him. “And the part where I said I was bisexual.” Draco’s mind froze. Bisexual. Harry liked men.   
“As in queer?” Draco was spending far too much time around Potter, he didn’t think before speaking.   
Harry sighed. “Yes, Malfoy,” the smile on his face left and he stood up to leave. “I should’ve known you were homophobic.” Draco laughed.   
“Me? Homophobic?” Harry stirred waiting for ‘the speech’ that people say when they’re homophobic but don’t want their reputation tainted. Funny, Harry had just started to think that Malfoy didn’t care about his reputation anymore. “Potter, I’m gay.” Draco let out a small breath. It was Harry’s turn to feel as if his mind had frozen.  
“As in queer?” Harry sat back down in his chair.   
“Shit Potter, you really are thick in the head.” Draco said. “Well, I suppose I am homophobic since I hate myself but I seriously doubt that’s what you meant.” The smirk returned onto their faces and Harry apologized.   
“I just am not out to a lot of people and that’s another reason I’m switching jobs. The Prophet gave me two weeks’ notice. But I talked them into a month.”  
“Oh,” Draco felt something genuine again. “I’m sorry, that’s awful Harry.” The name felt so strange on his tongue, but well guarded. Attempting to lighten the mood he asked, “What job are you looking at?” Harry looked him in the eyes and smiled. He felt vulnerable here, like this, with him. With Harry fucking Potter. Draco felt goosebumps.   
“Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts.” Harry waited for a response but kept going, “Lupin, our teacher in the third year, has been teaching since but, he says he can’t keep up with it as much as he likes.” Harry’s smile subsided. “Plus he wants to work with Hermione at the ministry to help werewolves.” Draco felt a pang of guilt, remembering the ass he was to Lupin in their third year.   
Draco looked at Harry with admiration. “I think it’s perfect.” It’s strange. Harry wasn’t looking for Draco’s opinion but felt much better about his decision after hearing Draco. The blonde seemed a bit squeamish. “How are Granger and Weasley?”  
“Do you really want to know, or are you just making conversation?” Harry hadn’t meant it to come out that harsh, Draco sighed.   
“Well, they’re important to you, yes?” Harry nodded, unclear on where Draco was headed. “If we’re going to be,” Draco paused and held a slightly confused look on his face, “friends, or acquaintances, then I should care about them as well.” They both stayed silent for a moment. “And maybe I could also just be making conversation.” Draco spat out.   
Harry couldn’t believe his ears. Draco had wanted to hear about his friends and called them friends. “Friends,” Harry said dreamily. “I think I rather like the sound of that.” They beamed at one another. They had started off as enemies. Now they both saw a light at the end of the tunnel. They could be friends. They both liked that better than the alternative.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a lot more to update with but i completely forgot about it so don't worry there's more!! and i know it's slow burn but like,,,, enjoy it  
> also! visit this link to see how u can help-> www.ally.wiki/ !!


	6. A Different Type of Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they disapparate to harry's place,,, 😳😳😳

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all i'm rewatching hannibal so i'm thinking about adding more pinning and yearning lmao  
> www.ally.wiki/

Later that night, Harry had a brilliantly stupid idea. His last article for the Prophet should be about Draco. It’d be a perfect send-off. He knew his job as a journalist wasn’t going to last. But to have his last story tell the world the truth about Draco. Harry knew that people are quick to judge, and he hopes that people will be quick to believe the truth. They never had before, but this is different. The ‘Savior’ was going to write the truth about the past Death Eater, about the good in Draco, and he hoped that people believed him. He needed them to. He wasn’t sure why, but he just needed it. 

He and Draco had planned to meet for drinks every Friday, but this couldn’t wait. Harry only had a week and a half if he goes through with this, and he needed to convince Draco. Fuck. He’d never go for it. Draco was all about privacy and keeping to himself. But, he could see the looks that his co-workers and patients at St. Mungos gave him. If people knew the truth, maybe, just maybe, Draco could do whatever he wanted to do. He could be a doctor, a cook, a teacher, a Ministry man, anybody. So Harry apparated to St. Mungos and felt nauseous.  
Harry saw Draco walking to the employee’s room, Harry had come at the end of Draco’s shift today, not wanting to disrupt him or his work. “Hey!” Harry shouted, “Draco,” The blond’s head whipped around to stare at him. There was annoyance in his face.  
“What in the bloody hell are you doing here, Potter?” he whispered harshly.  
“You know you can call me Harry.” Harry’s face was light, but the look on Draco’s was not.  
“You can’t be here!” Draco pushed Harry into the bathroom, “Don’t you read your paper?” Harry’s reaction was answer enough.  
“What do you mean?” Harry asked.  
“The piece!” Draco looked at the door closed behind Harry. “Written about us!” Draco sighed and pushed Harry to the side and walked back into the employee’s room. He grabbed the newspaper off the coffee table. “This.” Draco threw it at Harry. 

WIZARDING WORLD SAVIOR AND DEATH EATER SEEN TOGETHER MULTIPLE TIMES, ARE THEY DATING?

It was a discreet photo of the both of them at the pub they’d been frequenting, with smiles upon their faces and drinks completely untouched. “I swear to you Draco,” Harry looked into Draco’s beautifully silver eyes, hoping this would help get his point across, but almost gets lost. “I had no idea about this.” Harry checked to see who wrote it. Rita fucking Skeeter.  
“Okay,” Draco was quiet after that and started to get into his plainclothes. He took off his white doctor’s coat, put it in his locker. He was wearing a simple light green shirt. He slipped off his sneakers and put on fancier ones. Harry thought it was stupid, but they looked nice on him.  
“That’s it?”  
“Yes. You say you didn’t know and I believe you, is that so hard to believe?” Draco tilted his head to the side as he put on his jacket. Harry was quiet.  
“Well, maybe a few weeks ago, yeah.” They both went quiet. The relationship they had changed so drastically and so fast. They were too afraid to admit it, but they both were glad and wished it happened sooner. Harry dropped the newspaper back to the coffee table and walked closer to Draco.  
Closer and closer to him. Harry reached out to Draco and grabbed his hand. Draco’s fingers were longer, skinnier than his own. This seemed to be true for everything between their bodies. “You know,” Harry was scared of the silence, In a whisper, Harry asked him, “Would you like to go back to mine?” A beat passed and he added, “To talk, if you want. We don’t have to of course but-” Draco stopped him.  
Draco contemplated kissing Harry right then and there. He had let doubt into his mind and his heart. Fuck, his heart. But instead, he put his hand, the one Harry wasn’t holding and touched Harry’s face softly. This shut him up real fast. He stored this away for later. “Okay.”  
Without a second thought, they disapparated to Harry’s place. It was a one-bedroom loft which was surprisingly clean. Except for Harry’s desk. The kitchen, the desk, the bathroom, and the table all were to the left of the front door. The living room and bedroom were separated by a wall that was only connected to the floor, it didn’t touch the walls. The walls were bare, with only one picture of Harry, Ron, and Hermione just above the television. 

Harry quickly yet reluctantly let go of Draco and attempted to clean up the mess on his desk. “Sorry, I usually, well never have anyone over.” Harry was almost done organizing his desk when Draco spoke to him.  
“I don’t mind, Harry, plus you should see my bedroom. It’s much worse.” Harry stopped what he was doing and smiled at Draco.  
“You called me Harry!” He quickly moved back to Draco’s side, waiting for his response.  
“Oh, hardly.” Draco seemed to blush and this time, he couldn’t hide it or blame it on anything else. He wasn’t drunk, he hadn’t been drinking and it wasn’t hot in Harry’s loft. Draco had blushed over how fond the two of them were becoming.  
Harry smiled, “No, you said Harry.” he quipped. They both ended up laughing softly on his couch. “Oh, shit, uhm do you want tea or something?” Harry asked. Draco was going to ask for something harder but he needed to keep his wits about himself. He already almost kissed Harry and he was sober, Merlin knows what he would do if he was drunk and alone with Harry.  
“Yes, please, tea would be nice.” Harry rushed to the kitchen and poured water into the kettle and turned on the stove. Harry tentatively went back to Draco, fiddling with his hands.  
“Should only be a minute or so.” Harry said. He sat back down next to Draco, who thought Harry was closer than before. But even if he was, Draco said nothing about it. “So,” Harry continued, “you really believe me?”  
“I’m as surprised as you, but yes.” Draco’s hands felt cold since Harry let go, so he fiddled with them, just as Harry had a few seconds ago. “Wait, why’d you come to see me at work then?” Draco asked. Blood in Harry’s face rushed to cover his cheeks and neck. Interesting, thought Draco.  
“Well, I wanted to ask you something,” Both their heartbeats quickened, both expecting a different question. “Can I write an article about you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this one was short but i still have more coming,, i might update again tonight or possibly tomorrow  
> i'd rly like to know what u think of this fic and what you want to see, so let me know!
> 
> edit: lmao not me saying i'll update this and then just,,, disappearing for months i'm sorry y'all...


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